


Innocents

by Lul_A_Bird



Series: What's my name? [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Beta Wanted, Dark Fantasy, Dead Bill?, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Pacifica Northwest, Lovecraftian, Mabcifica, Mystery, Northwestern history., Not an AU actually, Not so evil Preston, Only one pesky OC, Pansexual Mabel Pines, Plot Twist, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lul_A_Bird/pseuds/Lul_A_Bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's gone, lost to the depths of insanity. A fragmentation of what Bill used to be, but does that mean she's evil? Does this mean that she is no longer the Mabel we have all come to love? Has her innocents truly died, or does being insane simple reveal the true colors of her inner self? It's time to remove the mask and see how good and evil is a blurry line at best.<br/>M for implied sex, alcohol, and reference to drug use (none of the main characters though). (UNDERGOING major changes... like really big ones. I had to change the tags)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> SO, this is my first fic on this sight. I'm mostly just looking to add to the Mabcifica pool which seems kinda meh in it's quantity. I hope ya'll enjoy it, this is just a preview though. There won't be an update for a while but by then I'll have up to ten chapters done so I'll be releasing those weekly while I work on newer chapters. ALSO this is gonna be a long one so if you're in for the long haul then cool, if not well... yeah.

“Mabel, I can’t do this alone!” Dipper yelled as the world came down around them. The sky turned red, the sun dimmed, and the apocalypse finally started. They had mere moments to take this opportunity to stop Bill’s wrath from spreading across the world. Dipper stood in the middle of a large circle rune that was drawn on the ground. Several items lay around it, many of them mystical totems or bone craft jewelry that must have been centuries old. It had taken him longer than expected to finish this, and he didn’t know how much longer the others could keep Bill occupied.

“Dipper, I just don’t think this is a good idea. You know what the journal said, there’s always a consequence for magic like this. What if… what if we don’t...?” Mabel trailed off as Dipper held out his hand and smiled weakly.

“Mabel, we have one last chance to save everyone. I know it’s scary but whatever happens we’ll deal with it together, I’m not sure if I could do it without you.” 

Mabel let a few tears fall from her face as the heavy winds blew her hair in every direction. The beginnings of rain splattered against her face lightly. 

“Come on Mabel… let’s save the world.” A faint but sincere smile graced his lips and his eyes took on a warm, but distantly sad, shimmer.

Mabel weakly smiled and took his hand, stepping into the circle.

Dipper held up an old brown leather bound journal and opened it, its pages brittle and thick. Each page was filled with sketches and descriptions of various monsters that the original owner had come across. Each page was also riddled with tips and details about hunting and fighting the creatures within its pages. Dipper stopped at a page with a diagram of the symbol now drawn on the ground around them. At the top were words written in Latin, and at the bottom was a description of the rune’s functions. Dipper held it out in front of him and wrapped his right arm around Mabel’s shoulder as she reached over and hugged him at mid back.

They both seemed to take a moment to soak in their surroundings for what could very possibly be the last time. The building that lay in ruin around them used to stand tall and proud over gravity falls, it’s walls once towered high above the residents of this simple town as a symbol of power and pride. But now it was nothing more than a smoking husk of dismay and hopelessness. The twins were, more specifically, in what used to be the grand hall of the Northwest mansion. Its inner architecture now lane bare to the elements of the world. When Bill’s rampage began, the manor was the first thing to be obliterated as a show of power. A way for Bill to assert his power and superiority to his soon to be victims. 

They both sighed, then began reading the Latin at the top in unison as loudly as they could manage, “Lavabis mihi malum grande hoc ut homo deos testa judicabitur. Afferte mihi malum ut perdat eam animi voluntatem meam!” As they finished the chant, Bill floated down from the sky and stopped, hovering right in front of them. His triangular body glowing faintly with raw power. Even without a face, you could see his cocky attitude in the way he carried himself. 

He had a bored look in his one eye. “What are you two up to? Trying to cast some horrible curse on me? Tell me, is this the one that makes me cry acid for one hundred years, or is it that doesn’t work?” He pressed his hands against the sides of his ‘face’ and spoke in mock astonishment. “Oh no, I totally forgot to check the journals for possible weaknesses!”

“Bill!” Dipper yelled with a slight crack in his voice, fear slipping it’s way into his conscious. “Where are…” His voice caught in his throat before he could finish his question.

“What? Worried about your friends? Don’t worry, they make lovely statues. What do you think pine tree, garden or throne room?” Bill laughed and pointed mockingly at the twins. “So egg head, what’s this supposed to be?”

Dipper had a dark look in his eyes, one that his sister didn’t recognize. She had never seen him this angry in her life and her mixed look of worry and fear said that she didn’t like what she saw. “This… this is a translatio circulum, a transference circle.” Dipper spoke lowly.  
Bill dawned his bored look from a moment ago once more. “Funny, I didn’t see any of those in your stupid journals. Still, this dusty old hat trick doesn’t even seem to work so what does it matter?” he shrugged dismissively.

Dipper unwrapped his arm from around Mabel and grasped her hand tightly. Dipper tossed the journal out in front of him and took a deep breath. 

Bill looked down in confusion at the book, it was not one of Ford’s, or at least it didn’t look like one. 

“This wasn’t in my great uncles journal, you’ve never laid eye on this one before. And this circle works just fine… I just haven't activated it yet.” Dipper pulled a match from his pocket and gave Bill a cocky grin of his own as struck it against the side of his shoe. Dipper closed his eyes, squeezing Mabel’s hand tighter as he let go of the match and let it fall. The moment the small flame touched the ground the whole ruin burst into flames, it surrounded the twins who were now looking on in awe and fear.

 

Bill’s eye grew wide as the twins began to glow. Slowly, a light travelled around the siblings, stretching up, and bending over the flames toward Bill. He tried to flee, but was immobilized somehow. “What, what is this dark magic? What did you do to me?” Two beams of light reached him, and surround his body in a dim glow.

There was a moment where nothing happened. Then suddenly and violently, two bolts of blue lightning burst out of Bill and struck the twins. There were now two streams of energy between Bill and the Pines, and Bill was helpless to stop it. Dipper and Mabel felt a rush of power accompanied by the most intense burning sensation that they had ever experienced. Dipper felt Mabel’s hand tightened around his own as she whimpered in pain, unable to make any other sound. Slowly but surely, the world began to fade around Dipper, and his body began to give in its own weight. The next moment he slammed into the dirt, unable to do anything but watch as Bill was drained. Bill could feel his energy drain and his powers fade as he slowly drifted down to the ground. “No… NO…. I can’t… die… here,” Bill said weakly and bright light blinded them all.

“Hey, over here, I found them!” A familiar voice called out—gruff and worn, yet confident. 

Dipper slowly opened his eyes despite the fact that his eyelids felt as if they were made of lead. Light stung his eyes blinding him, but when his vision adjusted he could a clear blue sky past the leveled walls of the manor. He was lying face down on the ground, covered in dirt. His head was throbbing and his legs muscles felt like gel. His attempts to sit up bore little fruit so he simply lay there waiting for the sound of footsteps to reach him.

Soon he felt two large strong hands gently turn him over onto his back. He stared up into the dirty face of his great uncle Stan. 

Stan’s eyes were full of worry and his mouth was agape as he looked down in horror at Dipper. “Kiddo… what happened to you?” he asked hesitantly, something Dipper rarely ever heard in his voice. “Where's… where's Mabel?” he asked frantically looking around the desolate ruins of the ballroom. His gaze seemed to catch on the burn remains of the rune circle only for a moment before he returned his attention to Dipper. “Come on buddy I need ya here.” his voice quivered ever so slightly at the last few words.

He wanted to say that he was okay, and that they did what they needed to do to stop Bill, but instead what came out of his mouth was something else entirely. “The cipher is broken, flesh meets power and mind meets knowledge. Both are beyond comprehension and neither vessel can withstand the weight once carried by the demon of one eye.” The words were jittery and weakly spoken, Dipper’s own voice came out feeling foreign and despriet and it was as if he were listening to another speak with his own mouth.

“Dipper snap out of it, you need to focus! Where’s Mabel, what happened to Bill?” Stan yelled. Hoping desperately to get through to him.

“The light of innocence is slaughtered by the lust for power and gift of knowing is shrouded by madness so that none shall understand the jibber of the one who knows. Two halves of a greater flesh is passed down to mortals who could never hope to unravel its true potential!” Dipper shouted flailing about, kicking and thrashing against Stan’s firm grip.   
Stan leaned in on top of Dipper, forcibly restraining him until the others could catch up.

“Stan!” Wendy yelled as she jogged her way through the debris and to the man of mystery himself as he struggled with Dipper. “Stan what the hell?” She called to him, taking a kneeling position next to the two, she looked down at Dipper who was wildly kicking about and yelling gibberish at the top of his lungs. The look in his eyes when he finally made eye contact with her was not the sweet but curious eyes she was used to meeting with, instead she saw the look of an injured animal. A look between terror and fury that was only ever seen in the most tortured of souls, she wasn’t sure why but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the Dipper she knew was gone.

“What… Stan what’s wrong with him?” Wendy croaked weakly, feeling her throat close up as tears stung her eyes. 

“I’m not sure but… Ford will, no we will, figure it out. He just needs time, he’ll be okay he always is.” Wendy couldn’t tell who Stan was trying to convince, her or himself. She couldn’t lie, the scariest part about this was the fact that even Stan seemed to be giving in to panic himself. Stan shook his head and took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself before speaking again. “One step at a time, first we need to get him to safety.” She could hear the determination in his voice, the determination to stay calm and not break down right then and there.

“Where’s Mabel, did we find her?” Dipper gave an extra loud shout of nothingness as Wendy mentioned his sister. Stan just closed his eyes and shook his head solemnly. With this Wendy felt several tears fall down her cheeks, she let a small pitiful sound escape mouth before shakily making her way on her feet.

“I’m going to take him to the shack so that I know he’s okay… then we’re coming back out here to look for Mabel. I want you to keep an eye out until I get back.” Wendy just nodded quietly, whipping hot tears from her face.

‘It’s time to be a big girl Wendy.’ She heard her father say in the back of her mind. 

Stan looked down at Dipper who was still trying to free himself from Stan's iron hold. Wendy watched as he sighed and mumbled, “I’m sorry kiddo.” and quickly reeled back his fist. Wendy shouted instinctively for Stan to wait but he just clenched his eyes closed and punched dipper hard in the side of his head. 

Instantly the fire died in Dipper's eyes and he went limp. His eyes fluttered shut and Stan finally loosened his grip. He got off of him and stooped him up into his arms and slowly stood up. Wendy just watched in silence, knowing that it was probably for the best. Without another word Stan walked out of the ruins. Wendy watched as he walked away, Stan’s torn suit and dirty skin told Wendy that this whole mess had been just as harsh to the older man as it had been for all of them. Yet he still stood strong and proud against the destruction and darkness. Wendy may not ever say it to his face, but she had more respect for Stan than she thought she had for anyone else. 

See even caught a slight limp in his walk as he slowly disappeared into the haze of smoke that still surrounded the area. Just as he completely faded away she heard the distant calls of Soos and Ford.

“Over here!” She yelled out to them, and soon they made their way to her, both looking exhausted and battered. 

“Wendy, did you find Stan? Dude really shouldn’t run so far ahead.” Soos gasped as he spoke, but still managed to get it all out in one breath. 

“Yeah, he found Dipper. He was in pretty bad shape, but Mabel is missing so we need to start looking for her.” If one was paying enough attention, they’d be able to hear the slight hesitation at the mention of Dipper.

“What?” Ford was instantly standing up straighter and looking more alert.

“Look we don’t have time to sweat the details now, we just need to focus on finding Mabel, we’ll cross each bridge as we get there. I’ll take the valley, Soos I want you to check the suburbs over there to the east, and Ford you can check the forest behind this trash heap.” She gestured to the mansion lying in pieces around her.

Soos nodded but looked distressed about the whole thing, Ford just looked like he was in deep dark thought. “Wendy dude, are you sure you’re okay?” He spoke as gently as he could. 

“I’m breathing aren’t I? Let’s just go, I don’t want to waste any daylight.” With that Wendy trudged off to check the valley around the area for any signs of Mabel. Six hours would pass, and now it was dark. 

Mabel’s name echoed around wooded areas around the estate and deep in the city. At this point several others had joined their efforts, Stan was the first to show up after dropping Dipper off at the shack. Apparently his condition hadn’t improved outside of him calming down to a manageable level. Melody, Pacifica, Robbie, Manly Dan, and Tambry showed up about an hour later to help. Soon after that half the town was out looking for the lost girl. 

But it was late, and the people out looking for here were exhausted when they had begun the fruitless search. 

“Stan, maybe it’s time to take a break.” Ford said from the back of the three person party consisting of Wendy, Ford, and Stan. They all stopped walking and Wendy looked back from her position up front to the tired looking Ford. Stan had also stopped to face him. Wendy could feel the tension in the air coming from Stan, he was angry… no, furious. Not necessarily at Ford but the world itself, and he was about to take it out on his poor brother. 

Wendy adjusted the rifle that was slung over her shoulder to a position that would make it easier to toss to the side just in case it got physical. She had taken it as a precaution, but thankfully she had only used it as a glorified eyeglass to see into the distance. 

“We can’t stop now. We’re close, I can feel it.” Stan’s voice was groggy and shaky, he really was in no condition to be out here, but it’s not like anyone could convince him to stay at the shack.

“You said that three hours ago Stan, we’re getting nowhere with this.” Ford tried, but only got a death glare in reply.

“I’m not stopping until we find her.” Stan said darkly. Ford seemed unimpressed with the distant threat and simple sighed.

“We can’t go on like this for much longer Stan, look at you! I’m pretty sure that ‘sprained ankle’ you have is full on broken and you’ve been on it all day.” Ford tried to reason.

“Dipper would never forgive us if we gave up before we found her.” Stan yelled, silencing his brother. Ford gave a sad shake of his head. 

Wendy took this moment to step in herself. She walked up behind Stan and places a hand on his shoulder. He quickly turns, but Wendy doesn’t so much as flinch. “Look, Ford has a point. We’ve been at it for hours and haven’t even found a sign of her. Look I want to find Mabel as much as you do, but we have a destroyed city to regroup, rations to split, and injured to tend to. We’re just spread too thin to do this right now. If we go back, get some rest and come back tomorrow we’ll have more of a chance at finding her.” Stan looked down in apparent defeat. Wendy knew that she was right, and that Stan couldn’t deny that. 

“Okay…” He said with a moment of thought. 

“I know it’s hard but-” Wendy started but was cut off when Stan continued his statement.

“You guys go back, take care of the people there. I’m going to go ahead.” He looked Wendy dead in the eye with a look that said he was completely serious.

“Stan no, you are hurt remember? How do you expect us to leave you in the woods alone?” Ford scolded. 

“Give me your rifle Wendy.” Stan said ignoring his brother. Wendy thought for a moment before sliding the wooden longrifle off of her shoulder.

“You’re not actually going to give that to him are you? This is absolute madness!” Wendy just offered Ford a weak smile. 

“It’s not like we can stop him. He might as well be packing right?” Ford stumbled over his words trying to formulate an argument, but for the first time in years he was drawing a complete blank.

In the end he let his shoulders slump down hung his head slightly. “Just… be careful out there, Stan.” Stan nodded and took the rifle. Then he silently turned back to the trail and went on walking with his slight limp. Wendy and Ford watched him for a few seconds before Wendy started in the direction of home.

“Come on Ford, I want to check on Dipper.” She said to shake him from his trance. 

Ford took a moment longer to watch his brother trek out into the forest before mumbling, “Yeah.”

They would try again tomorrow, but they’d never actually find her.

 

She wasn’t the same Mabel. She was a monster, and she was having too much fun to end her games early.


	2. A simple Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess of the castle, the heir to the throne, should be relishing in the glory that is her future empire all laid out in one room for her to observe from her pedestal. Yet she can't seem to find enjoyment in the festivities anymore, they were bland... boring. But this girl, she was not.
> 
> Who is she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided screw it, here's the next chapter now. It didn't seem to receive to well on FFN so pleas, PLEAS if it's not good or if there's some glaring issues just tell me. I'm a big boy, I can take it promise. Seriously though if something wrong I'd like to know, but for now here it is.

The ballroom was packed with the well dressed patrons that made up the upper crust of the Northwest’s vast clientele. There was singing and dancing to go along with the already elegant sounds of the professional string quartet playing at the base of the stairs leading up to the rest of the mansion. It’s slightly elevated position acting as a half stage for them to play while also doubling as a blockade from the stairs going to the private wings of this massive building. Of course long tables sat on either side of the room, absolutely packed with the best and most exotic foods imaginable. And every person in the room was in some sort of masked disguise. This was the theme of the party, a ballroom masquerade, a painfully cliché choice for the rich and powerful family to make. The people were happy, the food was delectable, and the music was nothing short of perfect.

So why was she so miserable? The princess of the castle, the heir to the throne, should be relishing in the glory that is her future empire all laid out in one room for her to observe from her pedestal. Yet instead she found herself tucked high up in the darkened walkway above the staircase, letting her feet dangle over the edge through the wooden post railing. Her light purple dress shone with class and seemed to radiate in it's obviously expensive nature. She gazed out at the party, watching as the crowd swayed and bounced with the music with a look between bored and depressed. She sighed, wishing she could somehow find enjoyment in the evening, but the possibility of such a feat seemed to be quickly dissipating before her.

She just held that glazed over look and sipped from her champagne glass, she wasn’t sure how many she had indulged herself with at this point. She only knew it was more than her parents would approve of. Not that she really cared what her parents thought anymore, and in all honesty it’s not like they cared either. So long as she didn’t act, smell, or look the part in public she could be absolutely shit faced anywhere else. She took another sip, as if to prove the point to herself, this one being a longer more drawn out mouthful more so than a sip.

“Pacifica, darling, there you are!” The familiar voice of her mother only elicited a short but audible grunt in reply to the drunken sounding woman somewhere to her right. She didn’t bother looking just yet, but she could picture it just fine on her own. She was probably wearing some sort of low cut spaghetti strap dress with a ridiculous amount of back showing and some strange foreign name brand high heels that look more hazardous than fashionable. Her plastic face would hide the redness in her cheeks from the amount of wine she’s had but she more than likely looks the part simply in the way she talks and walks.

“Honey, I’d like you meet the chairmen of the east Blain Company.” When she spoke, she did so slowly. Obviously trying to avoid slurring her words, believing she could still appear sober. Pacifica hesitated, but did eventually turn her head to look at who her mother spoke of. It was a middle aged man with lightly graying hair that was neatly combed to the left. He had the beginnings of a pot belly poking out from under his tux. The man himself had a well decorated teal half mask that covered the upper half of his face, but Pacifica could still tell that the man had light wrinkles scattered about his feature. As for her mother, her description was pretty much spot on as she adorn a dark blue dress and some funky looking white heels.

Her mother wasn’t wearing a mask, or even a decent amount of clothes for that matter, as the only thing there to cover her cleavage was her numerous necklaces. “Mother, I believe the point of a Masquerade is to not know who you’re cheating on your husband with.” Pacifica said in a flat tone.

Her mother just laughed stupidly and clung to the man’s arm while lightly slapping his chest. “Oh she’s… she’s funny right? I told you she was funny.” The man gave a courteous smile and a quiet “of course” but Pacifica could tell he was only paying attention to her mother’s mostly uncovered breasts.

Pacifica offered a brief mechanical smile to the two; her mother was so drunk that she didn’t even catch the obvious insult. The only pleasant thing about her mother, when she was drunk she was too stupid to be mean. “Well, Steavy and I here were talking, and we both thought it would just be adorable if you and his son had a dance.” With that Pacifica went rigid; she wasn’t fond of the idea even in the slightest.

“Could you imagine how amazing it’d be if you too had a moment and kissed and you finally got a boyfriend so I can keep - or um you can stop sulking around the mansion. Hey, that’s a great idea you should go… and um… uh.” She trailed off as she blatantly forgot what she was about to say.

“I don’t want to date anyone mother.” Pacifica said firmly.

“Oh my god, Pacifica that’s a wonderful idea… you should go date that boy.” It took every ounce of patience in her body to keep from lashing out due to her mother’s stupidity. Instead she slowly got to her feet and sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“Where is this groom to be?” Pacifica said sarcastically, knowing full well that it’d fall on deaf ears

“Oh he’s that handsome fellow down there by the chocolate fountain. See him with the light brown hair?” She pointed an unstable finger in the general direction of the buffet. It took Pacifica a second but she eventually found who her mother was talking about. A decently tall boy with a similar light build as his father was standing idly by the food, watching the festivities with a content look about his body language. His face was covered by a black mask with gold swirling details etched into it. Its smile was long and was just the slightest bit unsettling to her. 

She bit her lip and summoned all her patience once more, “Okay, I’ll go talk to him.” Pacifica groaned in defeat after the words left her mouth. She knew that only one type of person prowls around these parties, and she’s not exactly fond of them. Even if she is one of them doesn’t mean she has to like them, right?

“When’s the wedding!” Her mother threw her head back and cackled loudly at her own joke. Pacifica forced a small chuckle that came out of her throat oozing sarcasm. She simply walked past her drunken mother and her one-night-stand-to-be. making her way down the stairs and into the fray of the party. On her descent to the dance floor she removed a purple half mask with diamond detailing from a small purse that she always kept over her shoulder. The size of the small white bag was perfect for occasions such as this. She slipped the mask onto her face and it lightly hugged the frame of her crown so that it stayed in place.

Once she had arrived at the bottom of the stairs just behind the string quartette, she knocked back the rest of her Champagne and grimaced as the bitter taste washed over her mouth. A warm sensation spread slowly throughout her body, giving her the patience she needed to overcome this social interaction. Setting the frail wine glass on a nearby table she began to push and weave her way through the crowd. There was a time where she actually enjoyed the mental game of cat and mouse that came tied to upper class socialization, but these days the game seemed dull and pointless. Maybe it was because she knew that whenever she spoke to someone, she wasn’t actually speaking to them. She was talking to whatever façade they happen to put on for the night and that kind of thing can wear down on you after a while. The realization that you don’t really know anyone at all can really mess with your head, not knowing if you even know yourself is much worse.

It’s this kind of thing that’s been tormenting her for the past few years. Ever since weirdmagodon, she hasn’t been the same. Maybe it’s because she now knows her family's legacy is a lie, maybe it’s because she no knows that the world is full of a darkness she can’t even begin to understand, or maybe it’s just because she’s getting older. One way or another, she’s not the same girl she was that summer, even if the world didn’t know she had changed. She could feel it, and that’s enough to break her apart.

She was so lost in this dark train of thought that she hadn’t noticed she had arrived at her destination already, and almost passed the boy she was supposed to meet. Stopping and playing off the awkward entrance as simple mingling, she acted as if she had seen a piece of food that caught her eye. She stepped up to the table and picked up a strawberry from a large bowl. Pacifica takes a small bite from the tip and allows herself to enjoy the taste for a moment before turning out to watch the dancing along with the chairman's son.

“Enjoying yourself?” Pacifica asked, her voice was low was laced with subtle seductive undertone. Years of practice that came in handy during times like these, the goal was to keep them wondering if you are making small talk, or flirting. It’s all about balancing how much you feed their ego, and how much give them. Too much and they get cocky, then it’s almost a sure shot they’ll make some sort of stupid move. Too little and they lose interest in you and move on. Well, for the inexperienced ones anyway. But she doubted this one was going to very difficult.

“I suppose, it’d be better if I had a lovely woman to dance with.” Pacifica nearly cringed at the amount of narcissism in his tone. This boy obviously thought he was the most suave man in the room; it was almost laughable to her.

“Surely a man of your… stature… would have had his pick of the litter for a date to such an occasion.” Pacifica choked down a little bit of her pride to feed the beast that was his self image.

“Yes, well, I had a date originally but… I had to let her go. Personal matter you must understand.” He said with a sigh. Pacifica smirked to herself, knowing that this meant she most definitely broke up with him.

“It’s a shame, she’s missing out and a wonderful evening.” Pacifica added a short sigh at the end of the statement, just to add to the effect. But as she finished the short comment she began to realize that she wasn’t sure what exactly she was hoping to accomplish with this interaction. The only reason she’s even down here is because her mother asked her too. She mentally cursed her parents for practically brainwashing her into this kind of subconscious obedience.

“It truly is a wonderful evening… but it could still be better.” The boy's tone took a darker turn, one filled with intent and regrettably… lust.

‘He really doesn’t beat around the bush does he? Straight to the prize as if it’s already his, perhaps I had been a little too giving in the feeding of his ego.’ Pacifica thought while she formulated a response.

Choosing to play dumb she said, “I couldn’t imagine how honestly, there’s nothing quite like a masquerade. Something about it all is just so enticing. Maybe it’s the masks, something about the anonymity allows people to act more directly and honestly.” Pacifica caught herself off guard when she said this, surprised at the honesty of the statement. “It allows a clearer picture of the people who partake. A rare and valuable experience in this world we share.” She was speaking of course of the higher class world, but she didn’t want to elaborate that to the boy who most likely was not even listening by this point.

“So you prefer people to be more direct and honest eh?” His cocky tone crept its way to her ear in a manner that made her skin crawl. This guy was much creepier than she anticipated. “Well then may I be so bold as to ask you to come with me to a more… private venue?”

‘That’s enough talking for tonight; I should politely decline or maybe come up with some sort of excuse. This sleaze ball isn’t going to get a damn thing from me.’ Pacifica thought as she took an awkward step back from the boy who was now not only facing her but leaning in slowly. She had just opened her mouth to speak when something caused the chocolate fountain to fall off of its secure placement on the buffet table. The warm, thick, liquid chocolate spilled down the side of the boys dark and expensive looking tuxedo. He reeled back and let out a curse that may have been louder than he wanted it to be.

“Shit!” The outburst caused several people to turn to the two teens. Pacifica let her mouth fall open in astonishment, if it hadn’t surprised her as much as him she would have found it funny. The ‘creep’ as Pacifica deemed him, let out a growl of anger as he tried to flick off most of the sticky goo which had now made its way down his back and had completely covered his right arm. “Well? Don’t just stand there, get me some napkins!” He ordered.

Pacifica felt a twinge of anger in her gut, but she didn’t act on it. She had become more or less used to suppressing her feelings, and now was neither the time or the place to get angry. She quickly turned and headed down to the left end of the table were most of the utensils and napkins were. When she arrived at the end of the table she began hurriedly gathering several napkins, that was until she heard giggling from her left.

“What are you doing, helping that man?” Pacifica jumped, there hadn’t been someone there a moment ago. Although she supposed that in this crowd it would be hard to hear someone approaching her. She straightened out and looked over at who had startled, only to find herself captivated by deep brown eyes.

It was a girl wearing a sparkly orange dress and matching half cat mask. The dress hugged her figure until it reached her mid waist where it puffed out slightly into a several layers of a much thinner and wavier fabric that dropped to the floor. Her dark brown hair flowed down her back gracefully; its natural waves curled slightly toward the end of their length. She was a stunning sight to behold if Pacifica had ever seen one. ‘As a professional opinion on her aesthetical appearance of course.’

The woman was sitting on the very end of the table with a sweet smile that had a faintly mischievous feeling to it. “What?” Pacifica asked, trying to shake herself from her momentary daze. Pacifica saw a glimmer of amusement in those eyes of hers, and wondered in a moment of slight panic if the woman had noticed the lingering stare. “Oh, yes him.” Pacifica remembered, ‘Why am I helping him? Public appearance maybe? It’s not like many people know who I am but I guess the notion still stands.’ 

“It would be rude to just leave him there.” Pacifica finally answered, returning to her task. 

“I’d say that he deserves it, I mean he was kind of a creep, don’t you think?” Pacifica froze again at this statement. 

‘She must know him or something.’ She reasoned to herself. “Well, I guess he’s a little too… blatant with his intentions.” Pacifica heard the girl scoff a bit.  
“Blatant is one way of putting it.” The girl hopped off the table and took a step closer to Pacifica, not close enough for her to feel threatened though. The strange woman seemed to be intentionally keeping a safe distance. 

“Still, creep or no I can relate to the frustrations of ruining an expensive set of clothes.” The girl groaned a bit as Pacifica tried to justify her actions. 

“Ever the gracious hostess aren’t you? What’s the fun of a mask if you can’t let your crazy side out a little bit. You know, have a little fun.” The girl put a strange amount of emphasis on the word crazy. Pacifica was slightly taken aback, not knowing how the girl recognized her. She wondered if they had met before.

Pacifica couldn’t put her finger on it but something about the girl was off, something about the way she talked was both familiar and foreign at the same time. But the weirdest part was the allure she felt to the woman, her very nature was intriguing and her nature was enticing. “Well eventually we take these masks off, and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of ‘fun’ after the fact.” The girl shrugged as Pacifica gathered the rest of the napkins she thought she needed.

“Enjoy the rest of the evening.” Pacifica said with a nod and turned to return to the ‘creep’ with a slight mental push. As alluring as this girl seemed she had to leave. In fact, that may have been the reason she felt the need to go. It wasn’t something she felt she could handle for whatever reason she had. ‘Damn, even I don’t get me.’ 

She returned to the boy who was standing right where she left him. He was dawning a look mixed between rage and embarrassment. “There you are, what took you so long?” Pacifica could tell he was trying to keep his cool, but the frustration seeped into his voice despite himself. 

“We had to get fresh napkins.” Pacifica lied, why was beyond her. ‘Habit probably.’ She thought as she handed him half of her stack. He began wiping off as much of the chocolate as he could, but at this point it had begun to solidify and it was proving to be troublesome. 

“Well help me, the suit is ruined but I’d at least like to get the excess off.” Pacifica nodded and tried to ignore another spike of anger running through her gut. She didn’t like the way this man told her what to do. 

She had gone through about six napkins before glancing out toward the crowd casually. In the crowd she spotted the woman from earlier, looking back at her from across the dance hall. It was difficult to get a good look through the dancers but Pacifica could see a filled wine glass in her hands. She also thought that for just a moment the woman had a hauntingly sad look on her face, but if she did it, had disappeared almost as soon as they made eye contact.

Pacifica could feel a sort of pull beckoning her toward the mysterious woman. She hadn’t noticed, but she had completely stopped what she was doing and was now just staring off at the girl. “Hey, snap out of it.” Called the boy who was still covered in chocolate, just slightly less so than before. 

Pacifica snapped out of it and looked over at him, she couldn’t stand him anymore. “Um, I have to go. Please excuse me.” Pacifica handed him the rest of the napkins so quick that the boy dropped a good portion. Before he could stop her she had already started into the swaying dancers so that she could reach the other side.

“Hey wait, I’m still a mess!” He called out, but she wasn’t listening anymore. She expertly navigated the dancers and soon found herself on the other side. There was another long table on this side of the hall, but it wasn’t filled with food. It was mostly empty save for several pairs of high heels and drinks set aside by the those who were occupied with the dance. There, the odd girl was leaning against the end of the table, sipping at her champagne happily. That smile of her’s was ever present it seemed. 

“Well hello there, fancy meeting you here.” She greeted as her lips parted in a grin. 

“Who are you?” Pacifica asked bluntly. The girl giggled and sipped again from her glass. 

“Well, what fun would it be if I just told you?” She countered with a playful tone. “It’s half the point of a mask.” 

Pacifica groaned quietly, she wasn’t sure why she was so fixated on this but she had to know. “Oh just tell me please.” She half asked half demanded. 

The girl hummed against the rim of the glass shook her head slightly, “Guess.” She sounded almost like a child when she spoke. Another sip followed her simple challenge. 

Pacifica hesitated at the woman's boldness. Maybe it was that mask, she did say earlier that she thought of it as an opportunity to act up. She thought for a moment, deciding it best to play along for now. The more she thought about it the more she thought the girl was familiar. Still, she couldn’t put a name to the personality. 

Well, there was one, but it was impossible. “Um, Sasha?” Pacifica tried, sounding unsure. The girl giggled and shook her head to indicate that she was in fact not Sasha. “Nicky?” Pacifica tried again. The other girls face didn’t move from amused, telling Pacifica she was wrong again. “Well that’s all I got.” 

The girl chuckled quietly, this time sounding less happy. “It’s okay, I doubt you’d recognize me anymore. It’s been awhile since the last time we spoke.” She moved from the table and set her drink aside gently. Then moved past Pacifica in the direction of the dance floor. 

Once again, an old ghost of a face flashed through her mind. But she knew it was impossible, Mabel Pines was declared dead years ago. Pacifica herself took part in search for her, but after weirdmageddon she simply ceased to exist. The old man, Ford, had explained to her and a select few others that the spell they used to kill Bill had also destroyed Mabel in the process. Something about a surge of power. 

She watched as the woman halted at the edge of the floor and turned back to Pacifica. It took her a moment to register what exactly the girl was implying. “Oh um… your not going to answer my question?” Pacifica muttered, feeling unsure of herself. 

The girl rolled her eyes and grabbed Pacifica by the arm, pulling her into the mix of people. “Oh you’ll figure it out, come on it’s a ball right?”

Pacifica hadn’t quite known how drunk she was until this point, with the sudden jerk of motion the world seemed to flip around and spin. She wasn’t completely gone, but enough so that she lost her balance triped. She had prepared herself mentally for the cruel unforgiving floor to smash into her face but instead she only felt the soft fabric of the girls dress. Pacifica looked up to see that smile that makes her stomach flutter. The girl had caught her mid fall, and was looking at her with mischief in her eyes again. “Comfortable on my boobs?” 

Pacifica’s face slowly turned red as she glanced down, and sure enough her head was resting on the top of her breasts. Pacifica shot up to her feet, with only a slight stumble as the world swayed a bit. “T-thanks um… for catching me.” Pacifica stuttered, trying to calm herself. ‘Jesus what’s wrong with me?’

The girl just laughed and held out her hand, waiting for Pacifica to take it. “Well now that you three are acquainted, can I have a dance?” She said in a teasing tone. Pacifica just averted her gaze in embarrassment and accepted the hand. 

“Fine, one dance.” She said just above a whisper before she was pulled close to the girl. She had her right hand clasped in Pacifica’s and the other was around the heiress's waist. Pacifica tried to ignore the closeness and the uneasiness it brought her. 

They began to sway and bounce, but not with the crowd. In fact it seemed like she was intentionally moving against them. “What are you doing, we’re going to hit someone?” Pacifica yelled as they narrowly dodged a large man with his date. 

“Then pay attention!” The woman laughed and began to spin the two around. It wasn’t fast enough to throw Pacifica off balance but it was faster than she felt comfortable with. They nearly collided with another pair of dancers when the girl pushed away abruptly. Pacifica stumbled back a bit in confusion as the girl twirled around the couple with a small wave as she passed, and moved right back into position. She continued to sway to the music as if nothing had happened. 

“What was that?” Pacifica struggled to not yell as she spoke. Yet another giggle was all she got in response from the seemingly insane girl. They continued in this manner several minutes, earning all different kinds of dirty looks as they ‘danced’ across the floor. Pacifica hated to admit it but she was actually beginning to enjoy herself, moving and dodging the heavy flow of people all moving one way. She had even taken to pulling some small stunts of her own, of course none them were quite as daring as the girls, but she was proud of herself. 

She didn’t even really register what she was doing until she heard her name being called loudly from the edge of the dance hall. She halted in her place and looked out the all too familiar voice that belonged to her father. He was just standing there with a stern look and a tapping foot. Pacifica’s logic finally came back to her and she had realized just how indecent she was acting. She went ridged and turned back to the girl. 

Her mischievous look replaced with confusion and distant concern. ‘Damn, her eyes are like an open book.’ Pacifica thought, making sure not to linger too much this time. “I’m sorry, but I have to go now.” 

The woman just smiled weakly, “I understand, just keep an eye out for me okay.” Pacifica just nodded and hesitantly turned away, still feeling that pull from before. She obediently stood before her father in a matter of seconds after she managed to pull herself from the girl. 

“What were you doing?” He asked sternly. 

“I was just…” She turned to look back at the girl, but found her nowhere in the crowd. Her words dissolved in her mouth as a feeling of loneliness settled into her gut. “... Dancing.” She finished halfheartedly, turning back to her father. 

His dark brown hair had began to gray, although if you didn’t pay enough attention to his roots you’d never see it. Perhaps it was the stress that drove him to gray so early, but other than this small change the man looked relatively the same save for a few new wrinkles. Despite the great deal length Pacifica had acquired over the years, Preston still stood a good three or four inches above her. “That didn’t look like Dancing to me, it looked like horseplay.” He scolded. 

Pacifica just bowed her head and mumbled an apology. Her father's features softened a bit and he sighed. “It’s no matter, I have something of much greater importance to discuss with you. Will you come with me to the study?” 

This made Pacifica cock her head slightly in confusion. ‘He doesn’t seem angry like he usually does when he wants to “talk in the study” in fact he looked ever so slightly nervous if that were even possible.’

“Yes father.” Preston nodded and started for the stairs, with Pacifica close in tow. She followed him up the staircase and toward the left through large oak doors. Then further down the maze of dark hallways that lie beyond. She had become familiar with the many corridors of this newer mansion, due to the old one being quite literally obliterated they had another built on the other side of town. This was nearly four years ago now, and although this mansion was smaller than the last it’s more modern utilities was much more comfortable to her. 

Finally they arrived at a large set of dark wood doors with an elegant vine pattern etched into it stemming from the center of each door. Pacifica could hear laughter from within the study and became confused. The only other people that ever came into his study besides himself was family and business associates. Preston threw open the doors and stepped inside confidently. 

Inside were two others, a man with a white suite and matching shoes and cowboy hat stood there laughing at what the other had said. Said other was a young man, about her age, with dirty blond hair and a black tuxedo. His tie was a bright yellow color and he was brandishing a solid gold watch quite proudly. Preston greeted them with a loud, “I’ve returned with my daughter.” As he took his seat behind the desk. 

“I can see that, now there lil darlin you can take off that silly mask in here.” Said the man in white, and Pacifica did so, slipping the mask off her face and back into the purse she kept on her. 

“Pacifica this man is part of the Phrill company, in fact he is the owner. Melson Phrill, and this is his son Bice Phrill.” Melson nodded politely, but the one called Bice stood up from his seat in front of the desk and actually bowed slightly. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” He said in a smooth voice. He looked up at Pacifica with a sweet smile that almost made Pacifica vomit. Something about him rubbed her the wrong way, but once again she swallowed her pride.

“Likewise.” Pacifica said with a nod, walking up and taking a seat near Bice in front of the desk. Melson just stood behind his son and gripped his shoulder. 

“So, now that you’ve all been acquainted, it’s time to address the issue at hand.” Preston clasped his hands together on his desk like he usually did before a discussion of any sort. 

“What issue may I ask?” Pacifica pipped up, trying to ease the nervous flips in her stomach.

Preston sighed and that air of nervousness returned to him, which made Pacifica uneasy. “Yes well, as you know the Northwest family has been going through some difficult times financially. The slandering of our name lost us some valuable partners and the damage done to the city four years ago had fallen largely on us to pay for what the city itself could not. Between these we’ve hit an all time low, and because of this stigma about our family being frauds we’ve been unable to form new partnerships so our recovery has been slow.” 

Pacifica nodded, wondering where all this was going. “Well these fine men here have offered us a deal, and I’m prepared to accept their terms.” Pacifica glanced to the side to see that Melson was giving her a look that made her uneasy. She shifted in her seat, doing her best to make it look like a natural movement.

“What are these terms?” ‘And how does it involve me?’ She added in her head. 

“Well Pacifica… You are to engage in a political marriage.” He said with the slightest bit of hesitation.

Pacifica’s heart dropped into her gut as he spoke, “What?” She breathed. A political marriage was mostly for show, but that didn’t make the binding any less legal. Generally they were conducted and arranged secretly to appear natural. Usually having the parties ‘date’ for some time before the marriage. In other words it was an arranged marriage, a fake marriage, for a fake relationship built up by fake people for fake people. Pacifica couldn't say she was terribly surprised, but she couldn’t say she was prepared for it either. Most her life had been sucked away in the name of the “Northwest’s” She just never really addressed that it could suck up her love life as well.

“Look, Pacifica, I know this is hard to take in, but this is for the good of the family.” He uttered those words every time they took another part of her away. Pacifica stood up and before thought of what she was doing she began to yell.

“The good of the family? That’s your big sell, ‘the good of the family’?” Pacifica repeated making air quotes with her gloved hands. 

“Um, gentlemen, may we have some privacy.” Preston said calmly. 

“Yeah, sure thing Preston. This is a family matter, and after all we ain’t family yet.” He laughed as he and his son left the room. 

Preston waited for the sounds of their footsteps to drift away before speaking again. “Pacifica please, this may bring us back to the top. Phrill’s have a lot of influence and they can help us, all of us.” He spoke slowly and calmly, seeing that his daughter could burst at any moment.

“Us, or you dad. Because last time I checked this ‘family’ is anything but.” Pacifica growls.

“I’m thinking of what’s best for us, without the company what would we be?”

Maybe it was the alcohol in her system, or maybe it was the pent up anger she had locked away for so long, possible a mixture of two. But the next words that left her mouth were not ones she ever thought she’d say to her father’s face. “We’d be a greedy old man with a whore of a wife trying to raise their daughter to be a good little robot.” The words came out with so much venom that Preston actually flinched in shock. 

“Excuse me!?” He yelled as he stood up from his large red chair. 

“You heard me, father.” She said father as if were an insult, “You’re trying to sell your own flesh and blood off so that you can keep couple extra zero’s at the end of your paycheck. All the while your oh so loving wife is fucking the eighth chairmen this week in the room down the hall!” She screeched, not caring if anyone heard. 

Somewhere in the back of her head she was screaming at herself to stop, but she had passed the point of no return already. Her father’s jaw dropped open and a moment after it began to flap uselessly as he tried to formulate a rebuttal. “Wow, the amazing Preston Northwest has nothing to say. Well that’s a refreshing change isn’t it. Now if you’ll excuse me, this good little robot is going to take her leave.” She could feel hot tears sting her eyes as her father turned a deep red. 

She turned and stormed off toward the door, letting said tears stream down her face. “Pacifica Elise Northwest, so help me god if you take one more step I’ll make sure you don’t see the light of day until you get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness!” He roared. 

Pacifica halted, her hand on the doorknob. She turned to him, face now covered in tears. “I’m done begging, I’m done being a tool for your betterment, and I’m done trying to make you happy.” With that she flung the door open and slammed it hard behind her. She threw off her high heels and took off down the hall, not for a second looking back when he heard the frantic calls from her father behind her. 

She had to go, she had to be alone. So much of her mind hurt, she just needed some peace and quiet. 

She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew that wherever it was it’d be better than here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you couldn't tell this is a heavy Mabcifica story. Sorry, I'm yuri trash, it wasn't the plan but somewhere along the line I got into it and never really escaped. I'm getting better but for now, eh. Anyway here it is, hope it's worth your while.


	3. Plastic Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm nuts, baby I'm mad. The craziest friend that you've ever had. You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone. Tell the physiatrist something is wrong. Over the bend, entirely bonkers, you'll like me best when I'm off my rocker. I'll tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed. So what if I'm crazy the best people are."
> 
> Mad Hatter, Melanie Martinez

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo okay, here is the full second chapter. Which confusingly enough is labeled as the 4th, but I'm taking the previous chapter down soon so... Yeah it'll work out. So I edited my own stuff as best I could but I couldn't get a hold of a constant beta reader. The dude who helped me last time, I am sorry, but for some damn reason my Gmail is convinced you never existed and I coundn't send you emails because of it. Either way, I hope it's at least okay. I feel like the pacing was still... Awkward but eh, oh well. I'll just hope and pray that what I put out doesn't make absolutely no sense. If it doens't, let me know and I'll revise. Normally, that'd be the beta's thing but... Eh. Sorry for the complications, I'm working through them.

The night air was brisk and the grass was damp from the light rain that had been coming and going for the past few days. At the moment the sky was relatively clear save for a few drifting clouds that lazily drifted past the bright moon. It would normally be a very beautiful night in the eyes of Pacifica, but as she runs through the garden behind the family mansion she couldn’t give the atmosphere the attention she normally would. Her eyes stung too much from the tears, her lungs burned to intensely from the running, and her mind was to occupied with dark thoughts. 

She was angry, no, furious at her father for what he had done. She was disappointed in her drunk of a mother that had let her dignity go a long time ago, and she was sad. So much so that it hurt her to be with her own thoughts, but this was not caused by her parents… no this was her and her alone. Pacifica wasn’t sure who she was anymore, there was a time, when she was young, that she thought she knew, but after Dipper had discovered her family was a bunch of frauds the image she had built up for herself began to crumble. She had began to realize just how fake of a person she was, her wants were her parents, her image was the public's, and her emotions were synthetic. Everything about her belonged to and was created by someone or something else that simple demanded she was. She was what her environment demanded she was and nothing more. 

A good, and obedient daughter. 

Her skin felt like plastic, her body felt nothing but the pull of her many obligations, and when she looked into the mirror she could only see that stupid plastered on smile. Like a doll… 

She had reached the flower beds at the far edge of the garden and slowed to a stop as she ran out of path to run down. She was in a small circular area covered lush green grass surrounded by a small army of different flowers. She choked down and a pitiful sob before falling to her knees, not caring if she ruined her dress. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself anymore, she knew that the next day she would walk back into her father's study to apologize whether she meant it or not. Then she’d have to sit through a long yelling session about how ungrateful she is, and in the end it’d all be for nothing because she knew she’d go with that boy anyway. Even if she didn’t want to, it’s not like she ever wanted to do anything that she had in the past. 

Suddenly the prospect of death seemed merciful, the thought quick and fleeting. Only surfacing for a moment before being stuffed back into the back of her head with the rest of her emotions… well the ones that weren’t spilling out already. ‘Did I really just consider suicide?’ She thought to herself, her mind's voice strangely calm compared to the blubbering mess that was on the outside. 

She hadn’t really directly thought of suicide, just death itself, but it was close enough to worry the logical part of her mind. ‘That’s how it usually starts right?’ She tried to wipe away her tears with the soft fabric of her elbow length gloves, but the tears showed no signs of stopping their constant downpour. She was an absolute wreck and she knew it, but somehow she found comfort in this. At least this was real, at least she knew that somewhere under her stone heart there was beating flesh. Because some distant part of her mind cared enough to break through in this moment of weakness. 

‘Maybe there’s hope for me yet, if I even believe in hope anymore.’ She thought absently as she let the pain make it’s way through her system. 

She stayed like this for an unknown length of time, but she knew it had been a while, when her sobs finally died down into weak little whimpers. She drew in a long shaky breath, trying her best to ease her mind then immediately halted all movement. She didn’t move, or make a single sound as something caught her attention. A subtle sound in the distance, quite but close to her hiding place. It was someone humming, the tune was slow and seemed to be done absently as if the source of the song was occupied. It certainly didn’t sound like the person had noticed that there was a crying girl sitting in the garden with them. ‘Maybe it’s a gardener, I’ve heard them sing and hum to themselves all the time.’ 

Pacifica could tell without looking that her makeup had run down her face in ugly streaks of black and purple. So she tried to wipe as much as she could away before standing up and turning around to find the person who had come so close to discovering her. The voice belonged to a woman, that much was for certain, and the sound of her voice was haunting in it’s eerie happiness. Pacifica hadn't realized that something could even be eerily happy, but as the tune began to crescendo she found herself shivering. She was still alone in her little turnaround of the the garden, but she could vaguely see a figure behind the bushes that outline the paths of the garden.

Long wavy brown hair and a… orange dress. Pacifica’s heart nearly stopped as she muttered, “Don’t tell me.” under her breath. 

She made her way around out of the turnaround and turned immediately to her left, headed for the area where she thought she saw the girl. Sure enough after a few short seconds the strange girl was in sight, dipping her now ungloved fingers in a jar of red liquid. She was on her knees in front of a full bush of white roses, or half of them were white anyway. Pacifica let her mouth drop a bit as she watched the girl gently stroke the pedals of the roses with the fingers she had just dipped in what Pacifica imagined by this point was paint. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pacifica said hostility, but despite the sudden harsh words the girl smiled. She never looked away from what she was doing.

“Painting white roses red.” She answered in a distracted but happy tone, “I find it relaxing… the trick is focusing on your fingers, and to always stroke gently. You don’t want to ruin the pedals, then what’s the point of painting them.” 

“Did you ever think that painting them could ruin them? Paint and plants don’t exactly go well together.” Pacifica heard the anger in her voice, and hated it. The girl hadn’t really done anything worth her being mad, these particular flowers never really struck her fancy, but this is the only way she knew how to cope with complex emotions. Sadness, anger, even emotions of affection all translated to the abuse of some other human being, whether they are the source of the distress or not depends entirely on the situation. It’s all she knew how to do in times like these, and that in of itself has brought her a great deal of shame. 

“Oh you don’t have worry about that Pacifica, this little concoction is perfectly safe for the little guys. When it rains tonight it’ll wash right off.” The girl assured.  
Pacifica glanced up at the sky, and still only saw three or so small clouds in the bright shimmer of the moon. Turning her attention back to the girl and folding her arms she said, “What are you talking about, there’s barely wind let alone clouds.” 

The girl grinned, still not turning from the flowers. The notion of it raining would have been plausible yesterday or the day before that even, due to the light rainfall they’ve had all summer. But today the sky was clear and sunny and even in the night there isn’t much to indicate rain would fall.

“Well it won’t with that attitude.” She continued her cryptic game, and it was starting to get under Pacifica’s skin. 

“What is that even supposed to mean!” Pacifica snapped, letting a little bit more of her confusion slip into the furnace so that it could come out as anger. 

“It means that the world you can see is about at set in stone as a seashell on the beach. It’ll only stay there as long as it’s left there.” The girl dipped her fingers back into the jar and started on a new flower.

“Do you ever make sense… you.” Pacifica said in a condescending tone until she hesitated. She remembered she had no idea what to call this strange woman.

“Closed minds Pacifica, closed minds.” The girl was barely even paying attention to Pacifica at this point. This only made pacifica’s fire burn a little brighter. 

“Okay, cut the shit. Who are you?” Another shot of anger that the other girl didn’t seem to notice or care about. 

But this time the girl turned to look at her, the smile that never left her eyes had lost it’s mischievous edge and now seemed more sincere. “I think you already know.” 

Pacifica’s stone features faltered slightly as the ghost of Mabel Pines danced across her thoughts once again, but this was quickly disregarded. “Um actually no, no I don’t.” At this point in time, it was just denial. ‘It’s impossible right? I can’t be her, Mabel is gone… forever.’

The girl just shrugged and returned to painting. “Come here a sec.” Pacifica almost didn’t catch what the woman said. 

“Excuse me?” The frustration she was holding onto began to melt into confusion. 

“You heard me, come on.” She looked back at Pacifica, this time patting the ground next to her. Against her better judgment, Pacifica walked over to the empty spot next to the girl and sat down on her own legs. Her dress was already dirty, so she wasn’t too worried about it anymore. 

“Here.” The girl passed the jar of the thick bright red liquid over to Pacifica, who eyed it nervously. The girl rolled her eyes and giggled, “Come on, it’s a little messy but it’s worth it.” She set the Jar down between them and went on to work on her own flower. 

Pacifica continued to eye it, as if it was about to attack her, but after a few moments of silence she hesitantly slipped off her long lavender glove. She slowly dipped her fingers into the cool paint, noting how smooth it felt on her fingers. She removed her hand from the jar and watched as small streams of the paint flowed down from her fingertips and into the grass. 

“Like this.” Pacifica jumped as the other girl grabbed her hand gently. Pacifica hadn’t even noticed that the girl had stopped painting the roses. She waited a moment for Pacifica to calms down before guiding her hand to one of the unpainted roses, then began to guide her fingers around the pedals. “You have to be gentle and slow, otherwise you’ll pull off the pedals.” 

Pacifica didn’t know why she was just going along with this. Something about this woman had an effect on her that she’s never experienced before. It felt less like obedience, and more like learning. She couldn’t explain it very well, but it was there. 

Pacifica continued to slowly paint the white rose, trying her best not to rush it. Surprisingly enough she felt her nerves slowly wind down and the storm in her mind calm. As weird as this activity was, it seemed to be working, and before she knew it her flower was complete. 

She stared at a moment, almost hypnotized by the dim light glinting off the damp paint. This didn’t last very long through, the girl next to her got to her feet, and it caused Pacifica to snap out of her daze. “Wait… um… where do you think your going?” She tried to sound angry, frustrated, or even miffed, but what came out sounded almost fearful. 

The girl smiled down at her with a honest smile, the most honest thing Pacifica had ever seen as a matter of fact. It was also hauntingly familiar, and it made her hurt somewhere deep inside that dead heart of hers. 

The woman started to walk away, and Pacifica could feel the pain grow. 

“It’s… impossible.” She muttered, causing the woman to stop where she stood. “Mabel Pines is dead, and she died saving the world. She died a hero, loving everything and everything loving her, and I have the audacity to be envious of her… even now.” Pacifica stood up, but kept her gaze low. 

“Mabel Pines was something I could never be, and because of that I treated her like trash, because deep down I felt like trash myself. I was so narrow minded that I could only destroy what I thought was above me, but even then she tried to be nice to me. Why… why was she so nice to me?” Pacifica could feel her voice begin to shake as she spoke. “Why couldn’t she hate me like everything else in this stupid world!?” Her voice began to rise, angry at herself more than anything. “Why… why do I have the feeling that even if she did somehow step back into my life… I still wouldn’t have the strength to apologize. I would probably stick that stupid facade of pride back up to disguise how insignificant I feel compared to her.” Her voice fell harshly from the angry tones and became weak. A couple fresh tears made their way down her cheek.

Every part of her brain was screaming at her, knowing that this was too much to give away. Her walls had been breached and this woman had done nothing to them. They just crumbled, and she just watched. What if this was some stranger, or a stalker, or some undercover reporter. The accusations seem crazy, but in her world they are much more plausible than a dead girl coming back to talk to her of all people.

Or at least that’s what she thought. 

“And so it cracks.” The woman says, still looking away. 

“Wha-?” Pacifica breathed, her consciousness returning to power. She could feel the beginnings of panic and anger rising up through her gut. 

But then it froze… Not just the feelings, but her body and mind. Her entire being had locked up with a short and common phrase she had heard a million times from different people, accept this time it made her blood run cold. 

“Apology accepted.” 

Before Pacifica could react beyond a feeble whimper, the girl had disappeared behind the many bushes of the garden. Once the shock had finally lifted enough for her to move, she ran in the direction of the girl, but she was only met with the silence of the night. 

She was alone again, but she no longer felt it’s weight on her shoulder. She only felt a mix between excitement, confusion, and fear. She didn’t leave the garden for a while longer, she just kind of sat down where she stood and gazed up at the stares while she tried to process the insanity that had just occurred. In fact insanity was one of her many attempts at an explanation. 

So far it made the most sense. 

But after her long contemplation at the plausibility of her experience, she confronted the thought that she’d eventually have to return to her home and face her father. The thought left a bad taste in her mouth and she could already feel the beginnings of a headache that promised to only worsen if she was subject to another mental lashing from her parents. Still, she knew that if she stalled it would only intensify her father's anger. So she got to her feet and began the long slow walk home, feeling very much like she was walking to the gallows. 

But as glum as the journey was, it couldn’t keep her mind away from the girl. Oh who was she kidding, she knew that was Mabel. Honestly, was a missing girl really that hard to believe after what happened those many years ago? 

Mabel Pines, had showed herself to Pacifica of all people. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little flattered, but she thought there must have been some reason she couldn’t go to anyone else. ‘Should I go to the institute and talk to Dipper. Word on the street is he’s gotten better, but would he react poorly to this? Don’t I owe it to him to tell, after all those things I did to them?’ She wasn’t sure, all she knew was that for now, she was too tired, and maybe too drunk to deal with this. 

Soon she found herself back in the hallways of the mansion, making her way toward her room. That was until she came across her mother sitting with her back to the wall, and her arms laying across her knees. A half full bottle of what Pacifica guessed was whisky was loosely clasped in her left hand. She looked like she had been crying. 

Unfortunately the mess of a woman was between her and the hallway that lead directly to her room so there was no avoiding her. Pacifica calmly made her way past the woman who was staring up at the ceiling absently, hopefully she was so out of it she wouldn’t notice Pacifica making her way by. 

“Pacifica…” The woman said weakly, causing Pacifica to halt in place and clench her eyes shut. 

‘So close.’

“Yes mother?” Pacifica said mechanically, not looking away from the door of her room down the hall. Yearning for the safety of the ‘small’ space. 

“Am I… a wore?” She spoke groggily, still drunk. In fact probably more so now then when she last saw her. 

Pacifica was caught off guard by the question, and actually glanced over at her mother in shock. Normally she’d call her mother that very word constantly in the safety of her mind, but now that the moment had revealed itself it seemed too cruel to say. It almost hurt her that her mother said that.  
Almost. 

“Where did this come from mother?” Pacifica tried to dodge the question, but she knew she was just stalling. 

“Oh well, me and your father just had a lovely and um, colorful, conversation that may have shed some light on a few of my less favorable habits.” The weak laugh following the slurred explanation added to the air of near breakdown that hung dangerously around the woman.

“Habits can be broken.” Pacifica tried her best to sound… encouraging? She wasn’t sure if that would really describe it but she supposed the thought was what counted. 

“You never answered me, you should know not to change the subject darling.” Her tone took a darker turn, and for the first time in years Pacifica felt intimidated by the drunk. 

“Uh, well I don’t think that- uh.” She didn’t know how to twist this around into a neutral opinion. She didn’t like being in the middle of the fights her mother and father had, and thankfully they usually left her out of it. Never requiring her to take a clear side, but she guessed tonight was different. She did start it, so she supposed that wasn’t surprising. Pacifica sighed, giving up on trying to dance around the problem. “Mom, I may have said some things to dad. I was angry okay, but don’t try to pin this all on me.” She said defensively, “This family falling apart anyway. With, or without my help.” 

Priscilla seemed slightly stunned by the calm approach, the voice was gentle, but the words hit her like a truck. She opened her mouth to speak, but Pacifica had had already began to trudge away. She mumbled a quiet, “Goodnight mother.” As she disappeared behind the door of her room. 

Once she knew she was alone in her haven, she sighed and flopped down haphazardly on her bed. She knew what she did would have a huge negative fallout later, maybe not even that much later, but at this moment she couldn’t bring herself to care. It was done, and that’s that. For now all she wanted was to take this stupid dress off and try and sleep.

She let her mind wander for a bit as she lay there in the silk covers of her bed, and soon they found their way back to the girl from earlier. Mabel, it still seemed crazy to her, and she knew that the more sober Pacifica that will come with the next day will dismiss it as that. Crazy, some strange delusion or maybe even a cruel prank. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time’ she reasoned to herself. Still, it felt so real for her.

Sleep crept up on her before she had a chance to change out of her dress, she just drifted off into the waters of her mind. 

“Wouldn't you agree Mrs. Northwest?” Pacifica continued to daze absently at her half empty glass of wine, unaware of the surrounding men and woman awaiting her response for a single moment of blissful ignorance before remembering that Mrs. Northwest was no longer her mother. It was her title to bear now. She glanced up from the glass, looking down the long dining table that rested in the grand gothic styled dining hall that was the new Northwest manner. Well, the Phrill’s manor technically, but honestly what was the difference. Both families acted the same.

The table was lined with many unfamiliar faces, ones that Pacifica felt she should have recognized but couldn’t place. Seat after seat of plastic smiles surrounded her, each one more emotionless than the last, but she didn’t seem to care about that. She smiled her best showmen’s smile and cleared her throat. “Um, yes of course.” She didn’t know or care what they were talking about, she really wasn’t required to, she was just supposed to smile and wave when it was appropriate. Bice was supposed to do all the talking.

She locked eyes with the speaker, a man at the far end of the table, a scrawny with dark skin and bright eyes. A salesmen if Pacifica had to guess. It wouldn’t be an outlandish claim in the world of business to have one holding a seat in a meeting of the minds, they were often used as negotiators. She didn’t trust the man or his greasy looking face, but there was nothing she could do about it. It’s not like Bice would ever listen to what she has to say about it, after all he is the man in charge. “See, even your wife understands. It’s a wonderful business opportunity for both companies.” Pacifica looked back down at her glass and tuned out the rest, if Bice wanted to send this company down the drain it was his business. If he lost everything in one stupid move, it was his problem. Pacifica didn’t have anything left for the world to take from her, so there was no need to try and avoid her husband's inevitable bankruptcy. 

‘We could do so much better.’ A disembodied voice called to Pacifica in her own voice. ‘If we were in charge, we’d have everything we could ever imagine… We could take over this pathetic excuse for a kingdom and turn it into an empire.’ It was indeed her voice, but it’s tone was cold and emotionless save for the hint of maliciousness that crept behind the words. 

The light chatter of the diner table had ceased, and when Pacifica looked up to see why, she was greeted by the vastness of a throne room. The architecture was the same as the other room, in fact it could be the very same, but instead of a long dinner table filling the room there was a lonely thrown sitting atop a small set of stairs. She was in said throne, looking down at a mass of bodies knelt at her feet. They seemed to tremble in her wake, silently begging for mercy. Pacifica felt a surge of energy course through her veins as she looked down upon her fearful subjects who were powerless to contain her apparent wrath. 

She felt the heavy weight of a crown sitting on her head, and she absently reached up to trace the fine details of the head piece with her slender fingers. She could feel gems and the intricate designs etched into the priceless metal’s of the crown. She slid it off of her head slowly, feeling it’s weight in her hands for a moment before bringing it down in front of her eyes so that she could study it. She eyed it carefully, taking in every diamond, ruby, and sapphire that was embedded into the gold band, but she only had a few moments to enjoy the detailing before something odd caught her eye. Her reflection in the shiny metal was grinning slyly back at her, as if satisfied. It was a look of total victory, but when she let her right hand brush against her lips lightly she could feel that she was in fact not smiling. 

“We could take the throne for ourselves, and we could become the queen of the castle. We could have anything your heart desired, power, sex, revenge. Whatever that sick little mind of yours requires.” It’s lips moved despite the fact that Pacifica hadn’t spoken. “We could become more than the smiling wife or the obedient daughter.” Pacifica stared at the speaking reflection with an unreadable blank face. 

"You okay there Paz?” The crown had vanished from her hand, and was replaced with a tea cup. One that felt fake and plastic, with a silly little bunny design on it. Pacifica blinked and looked up to see she was at yet another table, but this one was significantly smaller with only six seats. Two on each side and one at each end. 

At the head of the table sat Mabel, and there was no denying it was her this time. She was wearing the dress from that night, but the mask was gone, leaving no doubt in Pacifica’s mind that this was indeed the missing Pines twin. “What’s going on?” Pacifica asked as she observed the four others at either end of the table. It was an array of stuffed animals, one was a blue bunny with a monocle and a top hat, another was a pink bear with a little red bow on it’s head, the other more twitchy one appeared to be some sort of purple bug with four arms and two large eyes, and the last was a green dog with black spots and a white underbelly. They all seemed preoccupied by a lively discussion on the various uses of a candle. 

"Isn't it obvious, you’re dreaming.” Mabel said with a lopsided grin as she sipped from her cup of tea, only to scowl a moment after tasting the brew. She held the cup out to the dog who promptly dropped a few sugar cubes into the cup with its mouth.

“Dreaming?” That made sense, why hadn’t she come to that conclusion before now. She supposed that, even with the dreams surreal nature, it was all so vivid that it felt like she was really there. 

“Yup, I find that people are most honest with themselves when they dream. All their fears and desires spill out in the form of this disjointed mess of visions put on display by your subconscious. If you pay attention to them, you might just learn a thing or two about yourself that even you didn’t know.” Mabel said happily, sipping from her cup again but this time humming in approval. “You want some more? It isn’t much of a party if you don’t drink.” She giggled at her own joke.

Pacifica shifted in her seat uneasily, not sure what to do or say about all this. “I need to stop drinking so close to sleeping.” She muttered to herself 

"Silly Paz, this isn’t because of the wine.”

“Champagne.” Pacifica corrected, earning an eye roll from Mabel.

“Yeah, whatever, champagne. It’s not the alcohol at any rate. It’s me, I’m doing all this.” She said proudly. 

“You?” Pacifica responded skeptically.

“Yup” Mabel replied without a hint of hesitation.

“So you want me to believe that; not only is Mabel Pines alive and showing herself to me of all people, but has also invaded my dreams?” Pacifica spoke with a chuckle behind every word. 

“Invade is such a strong word, I’d say I more… Influenced your dreams. Ya know, nudged them in a certain direction.” Pacifica laughed at that, it sounded ridiculous and it was. 

“And how would little Ms. Sweater Town ‘influence’ my dreams.” Pacifica spoke mockingly, using air quotes at the word ‘influence’. 

For a split second, Mabel frowned, but the grin returned quickly. Mabel acted as if there wasn’t a moment of pause in her resolve, and Pacifica thought it best that she not upset this dream Mabel. She didn’t want this to turn into a nightmare after all. 

“Well, because Bill could do it.” Mabel said sweetly before downing the rest of her cup and pouring a more tea into it. She passed it back to the dog who dropped more sugar cubes into it.

“Bill? You mean that crazy triangle that tried to kill us?” Pacifica heard just the slightest bit of fear in her own tone despite her attempts at sounding snarky. The memory of that demon were some of the worst she had. 

“The one and only.” Mabel sang as she retrieved her cup from the dog. “When me and- um- Dipper,” Mabel’s voice shook at the mention of her brother, and for that moment her grin fell, “Killed little old Bill, his power and knowledge was divided up between the two of us.” The smile slowly found it’s way back onto Mabel’s lips, but it seemed less sincere now. “Dipper got all of the demons knowledge and little old me got all his nifty tricks.” 

Pacifica took a moment to process this before bursting out laughing, and Mabel gave her a look of confusion. “I’m confused, the one time it’s not a joke you laugh?” 

Pacifica let the laugh die down and said, “Oh god, wow. That was good, I should start keeping a dream journal. I could write a novel off of that, and I could get it published. Smash hit right there.” She said breathlessly. 

Mabel smiled once again, “Ah, I see. You don’t believe me, that’s alright. Why trust a dream right?” Pacifica let her features fall into a darker look.

“Mabel Pines is dead, she died four years ago saving the world from impending doom. You are nothing but some fantasy I came up with in my drunken stooper because I thought I saw Mabel at today's party. Which I will remind you was a masquerade, so there’s no definitive way I could tell that it was in fact the ghost I thought it was.” Pacifica spoke confidently, her logic was sound but for some reason she still doubted herself.

Mabel didn’t reply to this, she just hummed and took another sip of tea. They kept eye contact for a few, almost awkward, moments of silence between the two. The conversation of the animals hadn’t seemed bothered by this however, as they kept bickering. “I never died Pacifica.” Mabel finally said, her smile ever present, but her voice low and eerie. “I just ran away to play a new game. But that game is done and now it’s time for me to move on to a new one.” She set down her cup and leaned in, resting her chin in her hands. 

Pacifica seemed to be caught off guard at this, hesitating in asking, “What new game?” She was almost afraid of the answer. 

The brunette giggled and said, “I don’t know Pacifica, what game are we playing?” 

Pacifica didn't answer, she just looked on in confusion as the world around them began to darken. The darkness slowly swallowed up the whole room and eventually even Mabel vanished behind the void. Somewhere in the distance she heard the familiar tune of disco girl, and it seemed to be growing louder with each passing second.

She could feel weight return to her, and her mind groggily returning to normal. She slowly opened her heavy eyes and sat up in her bed. She was still sitting on the edge of her bed in that stuffy dress. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. ‘What a strange dream.’ She thought as she stood up; turned off the alarm on her phone, and made her way toward her closet. Slowly, she changed out of her dress and slipped into her street clothes. A purple jacket over a dark blue T-shirt and a pair of form fitting jeans. Every bit of it looked as expensive as it was too, after all she didn’t have anything worth under a 100 dollars in her closet. ‘Well, there is one.’ Pacifica reminded herself, letting her gaze drift over to a yellow sweater with a llama decal on the front. It was only half folded and hanging out off a shelf away from her other shirts. It was too small for her to wear anymore, but she could never bring herself to toss it away. 

She shook away the thoughts and left her closet. She was headed to the dining room to get breakfast, she wasn’t too hungry but she thought it was probably best that she eat something. Pacifica felt a jolt of anxiety when she remembered the events of last night, and that she would likely have to confront her father now. She can’t avoid him forever, even in a house this big. ‘Screw it, I might as well get this over with now.’ She turned on her heels to head instead to her father’s study. She knew that the man practically lived in that office and often slept in the large cushy chair when he and his wife fought. 

When she arrived at the large wooden doors she just stood there in front of it. Pacifica was trying to gather all her confidence and her patients so that she could withstand the onslaught of her father’s rage. No matter how many times she was forced to endure his anger, it never got any less scary to her. He had only ever hit her the once, but because of that once, she knew that he was capable of such a thing. Especially now, considering all that she had said the night before, she mentally scolded herself for being over zealous in her stooper, sure she wasn’t that drunk but at the moment it was easier to just blame the alcohol. 

“You really fucked up this time Pacifica.” She muttered to herself before pushing open the doors. As she expected, Preston was sitting at his desk in half of his dress cloths from the previous night. Pacifica noted the nearly empty bottle of scotch laying on it’s side next to the computer, and her father’s droopy eyes and messy hair. ‘Eesh, I thought I was having a rough night. I wonder how bad mother is?’ 

Preston looked up at Pacifica with a blank look that Pacifica couldn’t read. Not that she could read him that well to begin with. “Father, I um… I would like to apologize for last night, I didn’t convey my feelings in the most- uh, appropriate manner. I may have had one to many drinks last night, but my opinion on the matter remain the same.” She said the words faster than she could regret it, much like a person would choke down foul tasting medicine before they had a chance to taste it. She knew she would say something stupid again if she didn’t.

“I know.” He said in a tired voice.

Pacifica was taken aback by this; she was expecting rage, fury, shaking fists and bellowing roars, or any kind of anger in any form. Instead his only reply was a half hearted grunt more so than a roar. Preston broke eye contact with his daughter and gazed distantly at whatever was on his computer screen at the moment. “There is no point in apologizing Pacifica, we Nothwest’s are nothing if not blunt. What you said was true, as sad as that is, and for that I cannot remain angry. Believe me I tried…” 

Pacifica wasn’t sure what to do now, this wasn’t what she had prepared for. “So, what does that mean for me?” Pacifica asked in a quiet voice.

Preston grunted and looked back at his daughter, “Nothing for you, not yet anyway… but me and your mother’s marriage may not last too much longer, so in a final attempt to salvage our relationship I’ve decided to send her to rehab. We came to the agreement last night after a very long discussion about her habits.” 

Pacifica almost scoffed at that word relationship but stopped herself before it slipped out. “Rehab, you mean she’s going away?” Pacifica asked, not with the fear or sadness you’d expect a daughter to have, but with curiosity. 

“Yes, until she does something about her alcoholism she will be Washington.” Pacifica mulled that over in her mind, searching for some sort of reaction in her own heart. There was a twinge of sympathy, maybe just a little sadness, but not much. ‘Am I really this detached from my parents?’ She asked herself, surprised by her own lack of emotion. 

“And what about that Brice kid?” She was swallowing the bitter pill that was submission once again. Why she’d never know, but she just can’t bring herself to deny the man.

“Bice dear… And sadly I cannot change my stance on this. We’re all going to have to make sacrifices dear.” He muttered, looking away again, but this time averted his eyes to the scotch bottle. Presumably studying his reflection, he was obviously uncomfortable. 

“But-“ She started, but was cut off by Preston.

“The discussion is over Pacifica!” He yelled, causing her to flinch, and for a moment his features softened to what could have been sadness before returning to that blank look. “It’s for the greater good.” He mumbled, more to himself then to Pacifica.

“Well if everyone is taking some sort of sacrifice, what’s yours father, are you going to sell one of your cars?” She said in an mildly mocking tone, she hadn’t intended to say this but it slipped out. She was still angry she supposed.

“No… I do however plan to put myself back out there, I’ll be in Europe in a few days to meet with possible business partners. I will also be gone for some time, granted not as long as your mother. A week or so at most.” Pacifica struggled with herself just to keep from rolling her eyes, her parents would often disappear from the mansion with the excuse of business. She supposed that she didn’t completely mind, despite her unusual upbringing she was still a teenager. In fact sometimes she feels that said upbringing made her all the more volatile when unsupervised. 

"Oh lovely, a mind prison for mom, an unwanted relationship for me, and a vacation for daddy.” Her tone was sweet, but it was laced with venom and sarcasm. She was trying to be calm, but she wasn’t perfect. It’s his fault for raising her to have a sharp tongue. 

“I know what that sounds like Pacifica, but unlike you I’m not willing to let the legacy that the Northwests have built crumble into nothing. Mark my word… We will rise back up to glory.” Pacifica raised a brow at the show of determination her father just displayed. She wondered if he was talking to her or himself. 

“You sound like our preacher father.” Pacifica sighed, her usual bored expression sitting comfortably on her features. Emotionless, senseless, unreadable, just how it was supposed to be.

“Watch your tone young lady.” There was the father she knew, she was getting sick of the petty old family man routine. “I know this change is unwelcome to you but sometimes we need to make sacrifices to get what we need...”

Pacifica scoffed at that, I guess she still felt brave. Maybe she just stopped caring somewhere along the line. ‘Oh well.’ She thought before speaking again, “For this greater good you keep talking about? What do the Northwests know of the ‘greater good’ all we’ve ever done is lie, cheat, and steal.” There was no sarcasm in this. No, this was spoken with the slightest hint of sadness buried under disgust at her own name.

Preston’s eyes fell further, past the reflection in the bottle and to the floor. “Not always, this family used to stand for something. Even if no one else knew what that was.” His voice was low and solemn. Pacifica just cocked a brow in mild Surprise.

‘He’s acting weird, what’s gotten into him? I know I said some harsh shit but it wasn’t this bad was it?’

“And what exactly did we stand for, father?” She asked. Nothing added, no venom this time, just a simple question. She knew not to kick a man when he was down. 

She wasn’t that heartless.

“Some days I find that I can’t remember, but that’s why we’re doing all this now.” He finally looked back up to meet her eyes. They were different than usual; that was not the steely glare of Preston Northwest. It was the look of a tired old man.

‘I guess everyone has their limit.’ 

“I’m going to bring meaning back to us, I will return power to the name Northwest.” Once again, Pacifica felt he was talking more to himself than her. Pacifica just bit her lip and slowly backed out of the room as her father began to mumble to himself. He was having some sort of melt down and she didn’t really want to be near him when that shit storm decided to hit the fan

And that’s how the rest of the day went, Pacifica went about her usual business around the mansion. Being sure to avoid either parent whenever they left their respective spaces, which wasn’t often. She thought that she heard her mother talking to herself as she shuffled her way to the kitchen earlier, which proved to be just a little unsettling. Other than that it was a surprisingly boring day, in fact it was so dull that it was actually freaking Pacifica out just a bit. Normally, after a night like last night, this house would be a war zone of insults and screaming. The tension was there, even if the two were nowhere near each other, but nothing came of it yet. This served as a red flag for the young woman, if they are trying to repress it this much then it must be bad. She knew her parents, they wouldn’t hold onto that anger for much longer; sooner or later that dam will burst, and when it does there will be hell to pay. 

Pacifica was mulling over an escape plan in the ‘recreational area,’ or the fancy version of a living room, watching old reruns of ducktective. She wasn’t paying much mind to the silly cartoon, but it was nice background noise and did occasionally cause her to chuckle. She’d been there for a few hours, and had even eaten her lunch there; it was a nice space to be in when she needed to escape. But her quiet was interrupted by the familiar sounds of her phone ringing next to her. Some pop song that her friends found annoyingly amusing shattered her not so peaceful thought so suddenly she actually jumped slightly. She quickly scooped up the phone and took a second to compose herself before swiping the answer icon. “Tiffany, hey.” She said in her usual dry uninterested tone.

“Hey Pacifica, heard your parents threw a party last night. How was that, did you get turnt?” She asked casually. most of her friends drank,and a few of them even smoked, but Tiffany didn't really do either. She had a few drinks here and there but Pacifica couldn’t really recall a time she’s ever been drunk. She had to respect that about her, just a little bit. 

“Not really, I mean I had a few but… I wasn’t really wasted.” She said in a bored tone, but added ‘I learned my lesson after the last Christmas party, never again will I drink myself shitfaced at one of my parents parties.’ In her head. She remembered the incident with a slight scowl. It’ll never leave her, or YouTube.

“I had to ask, you’ve always been the ‘life of the party’ kinda girl.” Pacifica stifled a scoff before it could escape her lips. Another hollow compliment from her many friends. They handed them out by the dozens, and because of that it was cheap and meaningless most of the time. There was a time she’d live for those compliments, but these days it’s lost its luster. 

“Well last night kinda boring so there was no point in trying.” Pacifica only half lied.

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna waste energy for lost causes right?” The girl chuckled dryly. 

“I was thinking I could out do them later this weekend, what do you say you help me plan a real party?” Pacifica said with a small grin. These parties were where she let out her rebellious side, and she had to admit that as much as she’s changed, she still loved being the center of attention. With her father leaving in a few days for Europe, it’d be a perfect time to throw a party, so why waist the perfectly good opportunity?

 

"That sounds awesome, so long as jock strap isn’t there again. I’ve seen things I can’t unsee.” Pacifica smiled at the memory, her parties got crazy sometimes but that was the first one in which someone ended up naked. “How about we meet at the cabin, then we can hit the mall and figure it all out.” 

“Sounds good, meet you there soon.” Pacifica said, ending the phone call without waiting for a goodbye. There probably wasn’t one anyway knowing her friends. She wasn’t stupid, most of them liked her for either the money, the power, or the fame she held and not much more. They didn’t care about her as much as any weird business associate of her dad she’d ever been forced to talk to. After all, high school and politics don’t seem to different in her world. 

‘Maybe some air will do me good, could be fun.’ But Pacifica couldn't shake the feeling that this was just a pointless attempt to distract herself. Run from her problems like she always does, and that this time it wasn’t going to work, but she brushed it off though. She knew that someday her demons would catch up to her; so she might as well enjoy her peace while it lasted.

She stood up and stretched a bit as her thoughts drifted over the events of last night for the millionth time, and inevitably it came to Mabel. ‘No, it was some sick prank or a drunken mistake…’ She told herself again, but she wasn’t really buying into it. It was way too real to her, even if it was all so surreal, she could tell that it was her. Those eyes… No matter how the world tried to rip the life and happiness out of them, they’d only get brighter. She’d know, she tried, and she only found herself being drawn in. The more she pushed away the closer she got, and the nicer Mabel became. When she was young that confused her to no end, and she ended up facing emotions that she was unable to comprehend at the time. So little so that she had to cram them down, deeper into her mind until she couldn’t feel them anymore, so deep that they’d stay lodged in the back of her head even to this day. It was easy after Mabel disappeared to distance herself from said complex emotions, but not before she had to endure weeks of being an emotional wreck that was held together by duck tape and safety pins.

She never did come to fully understand her feelings toward Mabel, she only knew that they were unwelcome. 

But she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t figure out over time what those feelings were; weather she understood them or not. She never confronted it though, because the thought of it would die as soon as they sprung up. She denied it, and she always would, but that didn’t change the fact that one part of her knew that she like Mabel on a deeper level than she was allowed to.

She couldn’t be gay, that just wasn’t an option. 

She lazily drifted through her home, eventually ending up in the garage where the family driver was distracted by his phone. “Hello Dirk.” She said politely, getting the attention of the tall African American man dressed in the usual chauffeur uniform. He looked up and smiled, a large toothy smile that was surprisingly honest for a man who worked under the Northwests, but she assumed it was because it was her. Dirk seemed more at ease with Pacifica than he was with her parents, probably because she didn’t demand perfection from him. In fact she only expected to end up where she had intended to go and nothing more, that is until her parents actually let her drive herself. Dirk had actually been the one to teach her to drive, so she supposed her relationship with the driver was a comfortable and casual one. It was kind of refreshing actually. 

“Hey Pacifica, I was beginning to think I’d have the day off. You’re all acting kind of shut in today; I figured it was hangovers.” He said casually, holding out his hand for a high five that was only weakly returned. She felt awkward about his greetings usually, but she guessed it was nice to be treated like a normal teenager. 

"Well, you wouldn't be complete wrong I guess.” Pacifica sighed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear out of habit.

“yeah, not surprised. So where too?” He asked, pulling out the limo keys from his pocket and walking toward the vehicle preemptively.

"The spot.” She said cryptically, knowing that Dirk and Dirk alone knew what that meant within the walls of the manor. ‘The spot’ was what she called her father's fishing cabin out by the lake; he hadn’t used it in years, but the place was kept in good repair by the many hired hands of the Northwest estate. It was the place her and her friends often went to hang out without the prying eyes of their parents, which obviously implied that they often did things their parents wouldn’t approve of there. 

"Plan to get a hangover yourself?” Dirk said with a knowing smirk. Drinking was in fact one of the many things she went there to do, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted anymore alcohol after last night. 

“We’ll see.” Pacifica said as she watched Dirk slip into the driver's side of the limo and buckle up. Shortly after he clicked the button on the dashboard to lift up the large garage door, and Pacifica took the moment to step into the luxurious space behind the cabin. It felt excessive when it was just her, but she knew that she’d be leaving the area with Tiffany and whoever she decided to invite. Still, something about being in the back of the limo alone sent a sinking feeling in Pacifica’s gut. Like she was as alone as she felt… 

She hopped that this party planning could help her tale her mind off of the previous night. Something about going into boss mode made her feel more focused and grounded in reality. Maybe it was just because she had a constant task to attend to, or maybe it was because she liked being a boss. One way or another, it helped. 

Soon enough the limousine pulled up to the beginning of a short dirt road that lead to a small log cabin by a lake. Pacifica got out of the vehicle and said her ‘thank you’s to Dirk who just smiled and nodded. He would wait there at the beginning of the dirt road for her to return with her friends. The limo couldn’t make it down the stretch of dirt road well, plus he’d get in trouble if too much dirt got onto it. She drew in a deep breath of the fresh air, enjoying the scent of pine and fresh water that hung in the air. She may have been a pricy white rich girl, but she always had a fondness for nature, and she wasn’t the only one, her father would often disappear into the woods for a few weeks around hunting season. ‘I guess even he needed an escape every now and then.’ She thought absently as she began walking down the twisting trail leading to the fishing house.

It wasn’t long before she could no longer see Dirk waiting at the street, as he was hiding behind a patch of thick trees that now sat between her and civilization. The road wasn’t long as far as roads go, but it was a decent walk. Normally that would be a bad thing, but for some reason she didn’t really mind the five minute walk to the cabin. It gave her time to think, to compose herself. 

She was in the middle of doing just that when she suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The eerie feeling of being watched sent a shiver up her spine as she slowly shifted her attention to her left toward the woods; now completely stopped. She was never terribly frightened by the mass of pines that surrounded the lake, if she were then it’d be hard to live in this region, but for some reason at this moment she couldn’t help feeling that the forest itself had eyes. It was like she was being observed by the world itself, and it was judging her. 

She just started absently out into the deep woods, waiting for something or someone to make themselves known. She had almost given up on this after a solid minute of nothing out of the ordinary, however at the last few seconds she swore she heard giggling in the distance. Her heart started to beat against her chest loudly and her blood ran cold. Curiosity beckoned deeper into the woods, but fear told her to run as fast as she could toward the cabin. The result was for her to remain frozen, caught in an internal debate of fight or flight. 

After another moment of stillness, she found herself slowly making her way to the tree line; as if in a daze. Her mind was in constant protest, but her body seemed to move against her will. The faint laughter in the distant could still be heard occasionally, but she never seemed to get any closer to the source of the noise, as if it was moving away from her, taunting her… Leading her. 

She navigated the trees slowly, cautious of the stray sounds of the forest as she moved. The damp air grew thick as a light fog began to form along the ground uncharacteristically of the summer weather. ‘What am I doing? Have I lost it; I’m going to get myself killed at this rate!’ She thought to herself as she finally began to slow. Her daze seemed to finally lift, and she became acutely aware of how vulnerable she was in the woods alone. ‘How far out did I go?’ She thought as she looked back from where she came. There was no road in sight. 

She looked back in the direction she was headed, absently noting that she hadn’t heard the giggling in a while. Through the light fog, she could make out a clearing just beyond the trees ahead of her, and the shape of something medium sized and white somewhere in the center of the clearing. With one more paranoid glance over her shoulder she made her way into the clearing. It was a large, surprisingly flat, area with a healthy layer of lush green grass growing under the fog that lazily drifted away from a small pond off to the right. The pond had two small hills on either side of it with a fallen log acting as a bridge over, and it appeared that said pond was the source of the fog. It was a breathtakingly serene, albeit a little creepy, area. Normally Pacifica would have been overjoyed by an area like this, even with it’s slightly unnerving fog, but the item sitting in the center of the clearing had her in full shock. 

Sitting comfortable before her was a fully set tea table with four stuffed animals on each side of the table and two empty seats at each head. The same exact table from her dream for that matter; with the same exact stuffed animals, save for the fact that these ones were not animate. The table itself seemed to have been abandoned there for quite awhile. It’s white paint was faded and stained with a variety of grays and browns running through and around the chipped paint. A vine was growing up the left leg closest to her, crawling up the curves of the tables elegant design and up onto the table's surface. The vine weaved in and around the many dishes that lay disheveled atop the shriveled table cloth. The stuffed toys all had mud stained fur that was matted together from an unknown time of neglect. If it hadn't been so frightening to Pacifica, it would have been a sad sight. 

After the waves of fear finally died down into a constant feeling of uneasiness and paranoia; she stepped up to the familiar table. 

The closer look allowed her to see that amongst the mess of tea cups and tea pots lay wrinkled old envelopes. Pacifica could recognize them as invitations from the amount of effort that went into making them look flashy and classy. She’s seen similar things probably a million times. She carefully reached out and plucked one of the invites away from its spot in front of the pink bear, who’s left eye was hanging by a thread from her head, and turned it over to see who it was addressed to. 

‘Candela Chiuma Crest.’ It read in purple water stained calligraphy. 

‘Why does that sound familiar.’ Pacifica thought to herself. ‘Candela… Candela… Candy? Candy Chiu?’ She tried. ‘She did hang out with Mabel a lot.’ As soon as the thought crossed her mind she scolded herself. Gravity Falls was a weird place, there could be a million reasons why this was here, and on that note, she shouldn’t touch it. 

‘How long are you going to play dumb, this was in your dream last night. The dream with Mabel and these toys, at this table. You can’t deny that there’s a connection when it’s literally sitting in front of you.’ She silently cursed her inner voice of reason. It was right, something is off and it’s definitely following her around. She just doesn’t think she’s ready to confront the idea that this is quite possible Mabel's doing. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” She muttered to herself as she looked back up to the other stuffed animals. She felt like she was going crazy, and it wasn’t a very far fetched conclusion to come too. 

“Pacifica.” Pacifica jumped violently out of her thoughts, screaming as she spun around to meet the offenders gaze. She was met by the very eyes that had been haunting her dreams, and Pacifica could feel her body stumble backward instinctively until she bumped against the table. Standing before her was Mabel, wearing a dark blue sweater with a picture of wilting flower on it and a knee length skirt. “It’s good to see you, how was your morning?” She kept the same smile she had the night before, and her wild look contrasted heavily to her casual tone. It was just a little creepy. 

Pacifica couldn’t formulate a coherent response; she just let her mouth open in close breathlessly as she sputtered. “You- but- I… I..” Was all that could be clearly made out.

“You, you, you what?” The girl mocked with an innocent giggle. “Your kinda cute when you're confused.” 

“This… This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming still, or you're some crazy shapeshifting freak.” Pacifica said to herself, earning yet another giggle from Mabel.

“A shapeshifter can only mimic current states of being, so either way there's a living Mabel.” She linked her hands together behind her back and rocked her body as Pacifica began hyperventilating. 

“You're dead, you're gone, we all knew you were gone; how are you here… Why are you hear. Oh my god I’ve actually gone crazy, you’re a hallucination and I’ve gone crazy.” Pacifica rambled, squeezing her head between her hands as the panic made it’s course. 

Mabel just sighed and took a step toward the shaking girl, arm outstretched. Pacifica flinched away from it but Mabel ignored it; taking Pacifica’s cheek her in her hand. At once Pacifica could feel her mind begin to clear up, and her body cease to shake. Mabel ran her thumb across Pacifica’s cheekbone lightly, and another wave of relief allowed her to return to a more stable state of mind. For just a moment, Pacifica was almost memorized by the strange sensation, but before she could fall to deeply enthralled by the touch; the other girl retracted her hand. 

“There, better?” Mabel said with a sincere smile 

Pacifica wasn’t really sure what the appropriate reaction to this sort of thing was, so she settled on a basic, “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” But she didn’t sound so sure yet. Pacifica straightened herself out and took a deep breath. 

“Explain yourself.” She demanded.

“I already told you, how many times do you want me to go over this?” Mabel groaned childishly. 

Another shot of fear and confusion made her blood run cold, but she kept her cool this time. “What do you mean… Already explained?” Pacifica said slowly. 

“Last night, at the party?” Mabel clarified. 

“The masquerade?” Pacifica asked hopefully. 

“No silly, this party.” Mabel happily gestured to the table behind Pacifica. 

Pacifica turned to the vine covered table, half in fear, half in disbelief. “The tea party… The one from my dream?” She said breathlessly to herself more so than Mabel. “What are you?” Pacifica demanded, turning back to where Mabel was standing mere moments before, but the girl was nowhere to be found. 

She was about to call out when she heard the girl's voice talking directly into her right ear. “I’m me, no one else.” Pacifica jumped and spun around. Watching in awe as Mabel hovered half a foot above the ground with her hands behind her back. 

“Y-you’re not Mabel.” Pacifica stuttered, taking a few steps back.

Mabel lowered herself to the ground and advanced toward the blond at an even pace. “Well, maybe not the Mabel you remember, but definitely Mabel. I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I assure you I’m the same flesh and blood.” 

“Then why me huh? If you were really Mabel you’d go to Dipper first.” Pacifica shot. The girl's expression changed to one of discomfort, as if remembering something unpleasant. “… You did. Didn’t you?” Pacifica felt a pang of gilt at that. Maybe the brother thing was a low blow. 

“Well, not everything can work out the way you want it too right? Icons and bygones… You know how it is.” Mabel said, returning to her normal mischievous look and shrugging off the obvious discomfort at the mention of her brother. “I chose you because… Well because me and you aren’t so different.” 

Pacifica’s look of fear contorted into confusion, and Mabel sighed. “We’re both misunderstood, alone, bored, and most importantly we’re both tried of it all.” Pacifica’s eyes darted over to the table, her features softening as she realized that those stuffed animals were probably the only things she had to call friends. Not unlike her own assortment of fake friends in colorful clothing. Mindless, heartless toys. ‘Wow, dark thought.’

“I’ve been,” Mabel bit her lip to find a gentle way to put the next part of the phrase, “Keeping an eye on the people of gravity falls. It’s like my own little reality tv show, but after awhile you stop seeing anything interesting… But I remember when I watched you, when no one else was around to judge and measure you, it was like I was seeing a completely different person.” Creepiness aside, she seemed sincere in her words. 

“I guess I felt some connection with this mysterious side of you… I wanted to, oh I don’t know, get to know it a little. I want to be friends, that’s it. No deep plot, or hidden agenda. I’ve played my games for a long time Pacifica, but now I’m bored with those games. I want to see what games you will come up with, and I want to see what you're really like up close.” She said with a slightly nervous smile, but her tone was hopeful and confidant.

“You want… To be my friend?” Pacifica repeated in disbelief.

“Think of me like a guardian angel, or a fairy god parent. When no one else is around I can be there to make your wildest dreams come true.” She replied, standing on the balls of her feet.

“This is really happening isn’t it?” Pacifica massaged her temples and looked down as she took in the overwhelming amount of information. 

“Yup” Mabel said, popping the P. “So, it’s your call Paz. What’ll it be?” 

“Paz?” She questioned, looking up from the ground. But there was no Mabel, and there was no table. In fact there was no clearing either. Pacifica blinked a few times in confusion, wondering if she should call out to the other girl, but before she could act on the temptation she heard her name being called from behind her. Pacifica was shocked to find herself disappointed when it was in fact not Mabel’s voice, but Tiffany’s calling her name. 

“Pacifica, what are you doing?” Pacifica looked back to her, she was standing at the very edge of the dirt road that Pacifica had started off at. She looked back in the direction of the forest, letting the confusion settle in for only a moment before calling back to Tiffany, “Sorry, um… I saw something weird out there.” This wasn’t too uncommon in Gravity Falls.

“Yeah, so does Mcgucket every other day, come on let’s get this show on the road.” Pacifica just nods absently and turns to head her way. 

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she just stepped into some deep shit, and it wasn’t far from hitting the fan. 

As she and Tiffany began their usual routines Pacifica thought about what had just happened. She was only really half there, because most of her attention was absorbed by thoughts of Mabel and the strange happenings of the day. 

Mabel was alive, and Mabel had chosen her… for her games. Many questions that lingered in her head didn’t quite resound as loudly as one ‘why?’. Why her, why her childhood bully with daddy issues. It didn’t make any sense. What about Dipper, why did she seem so uncomfortable about him?

‘What about Dipper… Should I go try to talk to him. Not many people could get through to him, but this was about Mabel. Something in his jumbled brain has to still love Mabel more than anything right? It’s kind of obligatory really, so do I really even have a choice?’ She reasoned to herself. 

‘Tomorrow.’ She added, ‘Today has been stressful and weird enough.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself, you just waded through 11,000 word's of fanfiction. Be proud, you are among the strong now. Here's to hoping this goes up without a problem like it didn't on FFN


	4. What's going on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyya, so this basically the first time I've ackowliged the existence of any of my works in a long time. And I wanted to explain for the few people who wonder through here what happened.

So the short and familiar version of this story is basically shit hit the fan in my life and it got swept under the rug. The long version is that in that time, I evolved the story... a lot 

And I mean a lot. Mabel is good, Mabel is bad, Dipper is good Dipper is bad. Mabel and Dipper both are part of a shattered bill to, other dream demons coming and fucking with shit. Really only a few key parts of the story are what they originally were. Its... hardly recognizable but damn it, it's mine. And I think I love the new version, which I won't talk too too much about yet. Just know that the chapters currently up are kinda... obsolete but will remain as sort of a "what could have been." I don't know how I'm going to do that but ya know. Anyway I kinda wanna start writing again and because I don't particularly care if people are still reading this it'll be under the same title. 

Changes, none spoiler kind

Mabel and Dipper are normal

Not a crack mabcifica anymore, much more tame. 

There is a new dream demon and you won't believe who. You'll either love it or hate it. 

Yes violent, but the last one was going to be sooo... 

A lot, and I mean LOT more Preston. Yeah, Mr. Northwest. He's seen as a villain so often that I decided to take him in a different direction. But you don't have to like him that much still... balance. 

Umm... timeline wise it hasn't changed much when it comes to ages, Mabel, Dipper 17 and Pacifica 16 for example. But the events of Weirdmageddon happened as in cannon, save for everyone showing a bit more remorse and fear toward the memory. 

Okay so... There's a major oc, and he can be seen as somewhat... overpowered. BUT he's got drawbacks, and I'm not talking about like, a wired glaring weakness it's more like. "Is he good or bad?" And just... I dunno, give Atton a shot he's a fun dude. 

More Lovecraftian 

Right now, it's just words... but I've started settling down and I think i can do this if I alternate between two fanfics to keep myself interested. It'll come out in like... seasons. 

Also, I don't know how many people will actually read this but for those who do I want to give some credit. There's this Fanfic for star wars the clone wars, Barrissoka called Erosion of the Spirit and it helped inspire Atton a lot, but don't worry it's not a straight rip off. It's by uh... fucken long and weird. 425599167 <\--- that's it. 

 

So yeah, in conclusion... I don't know what'll happen with this old story. But something will come off it


End file.
